The office of Dr. Sean Childress, chair of the Department of Anthropology and Archaeology, offered an incredible view of the river. That was, however, all they had gotten out of their visit. In regard to information on Dr. Priddle, the man simply wasn’t any help. All he would say was that the department greatly admired Dr. Priddle’s work, and they were sad to see him go.
“And if Dr. Priddle re-emerges, will he be offered a tenure-track position?” Laney asked.
Dr. Childress pushed his glasses up his nose and looked at a spot behind Laney. “Due to budget constraints and differing visions for his role in the department, that is unlikely.”
Laney knew that was academic double-speak for ‘we couldn’t stand him,’ but neither she nor Jake could get any additional information out of the tightlipped chair.
“And you have no idea where he went?” Jake asked.
“No. He left us in quite a bind. I’ve asked the whole department, but I’m afraid Dr. Priddle wasn’t very social.” Academic translation: He was an ass.
After thirty more minutes of getting nowhere, Laney stood. “Well, thank you for your time, Dr. Childress.”
Dr. Childress rose from behind his desk, placing a hand across his rotund mid-section. He pushed his glasses back up his nose with his index finger again and extended his hand towards Laney and then Jake. “We’re always happy to help the Chandler Group. And I’m sorry again for your loss. Drew was truly a gifted academic.”
Laney nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She gestured towards the student at the back of the office working on the computer. “I wonder if we might borrow your student aide for just a short while. This campus is so large. I was hoping she could direct us back to our car.”
“Of course, of course,” Dr. Childress said magnanimously. He turned to the petite blonde. “Tara, could you please show Dr. McPhearson and Mr. Rogan to where they need to go?”
Tara grabbed her backpack with a little skip that set her blonde ponytail bouncing. “Sure, Dr. Childress. No problem.”
As they followed Tara out, Jake leaned over and whispered. “You know, Laney, I’ve made it through the Yucatan Peninsula, the deserts of Afghanistan, and a couple of other less desirable backwaters across the globe. I don’t think finding the parking garage will be a stretch.”
She gave a soft laugh. “Just follow my lead, okay?”
“Okay, Doc.”
As Tara walked out into the bright sunlight, Laney introduced herself and Jake to the girl. “So, you must have been excited to work with someone of Dr. Priddle’s caliber.”
Tara made a face. “Yeah, sure.”
“You didn’t like Dr. Priddle?” Laney asked.
Tara shrugged.
“You know, I really hated some of my professors,” Jake said. “They were always so full of themselves.”
Tara nodded vigorously. “Oh, I know what you mean.”
“In fact, a few students have told us that Dr. Priddle was one of the worst,” he said.
“They did?”
“Oh, yeah. Did he give you any problems?” Laney asked.
“He really wasn’t very nice,” Tara began and stopped. At Jake’s encouraging nod, though, the dam that held back Tara’s words burst. “He was actually a real jerk. Not like Dr. Masters. He was real nice. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“Me either,” Laney said.
Tara nodded. “But Dr. Priddle was never, ever, nice. He never remembered my name and always wanted his stuff done right away, even when I had other professors’ work to do first. And he never said thank you – not ever. And, God, he was so gross. It was like he dipped himself in oil. I hated going into his office. I always felt like I needed a shower afterwards.”
Laney bit back a smile. “Did you see him before he left?”
“Oh, sure.”
“Anything stick out?”
Tara shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess he was kind of weird. He said something about showing everyone who he really was.” She rolled her eyes. “What a jerk.”
“Do you know where he went?” Jake asked.
Tara’s phone beeped. She rummaged through her backpack looking for it, reading the text while answering. “I guess Montana.”
“Montana?” Jake asked.
Tara put the phone back in her bag after sending a quick text. “Yeah. He needed me to get some topographic maps of Montana around some place called Haven or Haver or something like that a few weeks ago.”
“But how do you know that’s where he was heading?”
Tara shifted her bag on her shoulder. “Because the day he left, he came to his office. He was in a big rush. I was setting up the bulletin board outside his door. Anyway, he called somebody. I don't know who. He was usually real private when he got phone calls. He even closed his door, so no one could hear.”